


Sherlock Knew

by LenaLawlipop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Oneshot, Short, onsided subconscious love from Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wasn't sure why, but little daily things were suddenly a great effort to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Knew

**Author's Note:**

> My first oneshot for the Sherlock fandom! I hope you guys like it :)

Sherlock knew, he had been probably the only one who had drank close to nothing at the wedding. 

When he arrived to 221B Baker Street, he sighed, and poured himself a glass of water, not bothering in making tea like, Sherlock knew, John would have done for him. He sat on his sofa and took his violin out of its case. He had written that song for Mary and John, but he wasn't really convinced with what it sounded like, Sherlock knew.

He slowly drank his water, which cooled him down, making him pleasantly dizzy and oblivious to reality for a quick second before he realized he was truly alone in the flat, no John to talk to, and it felt just a little tiny bit strange, Sherlock knew.

Picking his violin again, he improvised a little song based on the one he had played that night for the wedding, but it quickly changed too much and he gave up. Starting another one, he let his fingers slip, not bothering to correct them when he played a note wrong. It was messy, a nonsense, it lacked a tune, it lacked sense, Sherlock knew. But his songs usually did when he was thinking. John used to say they reflected his mood, about that, Sherlock wasn't so sure.

Which he was totally sure about was that 221B Baker Street didn't feel quite as cozy and warm as it usually did, and he noticed he hadn't turn the lights on. John used to do it whenever he was around, which, even with Mary, normally was almost all the time. He left the lights on when he left, and turned them off when he came back at next morning to say hi before work. He was trying to take care of him again, Sherlock knew, as if he were some kind of child who needed attention. 

Then again, if he wasn't wrong, which he supposed he wasn't, John wouldn't have the time to take care of him, so he should probably start to take care of himself or let himself die out of starvation or sleep deprivation. Letting out a small sigh, he forced himself to turn the lights on and start the fireplace.

Those two simple chores had never been this hard, Sherlock knew.


End file.
